Delinquency
by 00Fangirl
Summary: Lovino was always seen as a delinquent; talking back to teachers and the excessive use of vulgar language were only a few things on the list of things he'd done. But after one stupid fight, Lovino lands himself under the supervision of his newly appointed Parole Officer, Antonio Fernández Carriedo, for nine months. AU {Spamano!} (ON HIATUS)
1. Prologue

**Hey guys! I got this story idea, inspired by one of my closest guy friends - he's just like Lovi, except he's not gay for Spain :'[ -  
I won't reveal much but I will say that this will be _Spamano_ and i'm hoping its at least like 10 chapters long... maybe? But i had a TON of time to write because these last few days i was stuck without wifi at my aunt's house so all i did was type my life away! I have this new story and an update for both _Maps_ (to be put up for renaming) and _Let's Fabricate!_ (As soon as i'm done editing them)**

**_Anyways! _Enjoy this! (this is the shortest i've written and it feels odd lol) **

**Warning:Foul language ahead!**

* * *

**~Prologue~**

Lovino tapped his pencil on the school desk repeatedly, his signature scowl took over his visage as angry and slightly irritated looks were shot his way. No one dared to complain, and he liked it that way. The teacher had not noticed the repetitive sound until his voice was no longer present in the room.

An irate look fell upon the young teachers face when his blue eyes locked with hazel. "_Monsieur_ Vargas, would you kindly stop tapping your _i__nstrument d'écriture_ on your desk? I am trying to-"

The bell rang, dismissing the eager students to lunch and intensifying the stare-off held by Mr. Bonnefoy and Lovino Vargas. "Not anymore." The student quipped as he dropped the item on the desk and gathered up his books.

Face red with anger, Mr. Bonnefoy spat but three words to the boy. "Detention, this afternoon." The Italian boy scoffed and slammed the door when he exited the room. He smirked as a frustrated growl escaped his teacher's lips.

After making a quick stop at his locker – to fill his bag with the books for the rest of his day –Lovino entered the cafeteria and eyed his normal seat, at the table closest to the exit, with a skeptical brow. A mop of reddish-brown hair was planted firmly on the table, covering the face of its owner and revealing it to be Feliciano from the lone curl that sat up apart from the rest,

Lovino dropped his stuff at the end of the table and slipped into the seat beside his younger brother. Only at this distance could he make out the faint sobs that left his lips. He rubbed circles on his brother's back and Feliciano instantly froze under his touch. He took deep shaky breaths in (terrible) attempt to mask his crying and wiped his tears. When his eyes met with his brother, he instantly broke down once again, only this time into the eldest brother's shoulder.

Without missing a beat, Lovino whispered calming phrases into Feliciano's ear in attempt to calm him down. No one dared to keep their eyes lingered on the pair for too long, in fear of having to deal with a rogue Lovino if they did. People walked past them, shooting sympathetic looks at the younger, friendlier Italian, others ventured close enough into the grumpier Italian's sight to receive a one fingered salute as a goodbye.

Five minutes had passed until Feliciano had calmed down enough to even glance at his brother. Lovino smiled kindly at this and wiped away the newly forming tears with his thumbs as he pushed back the stray hairs that clung to his brother's forehead.

Students stared in silent awe at Lovino's actions. He was known as the I-do-what-I-want-and-don't-give-a-fuck kind of guy, and seeing him show such a level of rare compassion toward his brother proved to be flabbergasting.

Ignoring the looks sent at them, Lovino sighed and spoke up. "What's wrong, _fratello_?" Feliciano opened his mouth to reply, but choked on his response when a tall figure stood behind the Italy brothers.

Lovino followed his gaze and frowned upon seeing the dangerous closeness that was held between the Romanian and himself. Vladimir was as notorious as Lovino around the school and very few got in their way… _hell_ the two even managed to steer clear of each other.

"What do you want, bastard?" He sneered, not once taking his heated glare away from the brunet.

Vladimir's glare faded into a smirk that showcased his signature fang as he crossed his arms. "I'm just waiting to see what you're going to do to me after your _darling_ little brother tells you what happened."

Confused, and slightly impatient, Lovino tore his gaze away from the Romanian bastard and toward his younger brother, whose bottom lip quivered as he attempt to recompose himself. After a long, shaky breath, Feliciano began - or at least tried to - his story.

"I… he…" the smaller, younger Italian huffed and bit roughly on his bottom lip.

"Your brother is a faggot. He made out with Beilschmidt-"

Vladimir didn't have time to finish his sentence, let alone prepare himself for the fist that collided with his nose and responded with an overwhelming _crack_! He brought a trembling hand to his nose just in time to catch the blood as it trickled down his chin. Lovino didn't stop there; he punched him again in the jaw and once more on the stomach before a pair of strong hands held him back.

"Don't you _ever _fucking _dare_ to call my brother a faggot again, you fucking scum bastard!" Lovino kicked and clawed at the air in front of him, as he bit down on the arm that prevented him from inflicting further damage (although he did manage to get a few good kicks in before he was pulled away).

. . .

An eerie silence filled the principal's office as six people exchanged silent glances. Behind the desk sat Principal Aldrich Beilschmidt; his face as calm and collected as usual. It was no surprise to see Lovino and Vladimir - they practically lived in his office - but what _did _surprise him was the presence of Feliciano and Ludwig. He showed little to no reaction upon seeing them there and focused more on the other two present in the room, aside from the cop who lazily toyed with his handcuffs from the far corners of the room.

Lovino gulped when cold, blue eyes landed on him. He shifted awkwardly in the chair and debated on where to leave his hands during the conversation. "Enough with the fiddling, Mr. Vargas." Both of the brothers flinched at the mention of their names, but only Lovino froze in his spot. "Very good." The lack of movement seemed to relax the room a bit and Aldrich cleared his throat before he continued.

"I am going to ask for your side of the story first, Lovino." He turned to Vladimir and held a dark glare. "I expect you to be silent as he speaks, Vladimir." When he turned his gaze back to Lovino, he nodded. "I expect the same from you too, now go on."

After he drew in a deep breath, the Italian put on a façade of total confidence and spoke. "Well, sir. When I arrived at lunch today, my brother had been crying and I, of course, went to comfort him. When I asked him to tell me what was wrong, this bastard-" Lovino cocked his head toward where Vladimir sat, ignoring the looks he got for his use of profanity. "Came and called Feliciano a faggot, so I punched him. Simple as that."

Vladimir chuckled from beside Lovino and muttered _He is a faggot._ Lovino's eyes widened and before anyone could tell him otherwise, he held Vladimir by the neck with force that could be used to kill.

What happened after that was a blur.

. . .

Lovino picked anxiously at the collar on his black dressed shirt in hopes to loosen the red tie that tugged at his neck with every breath. It had been a week since the fight and Lovino had been suspended from school for a month, plus the time added on because of the court. The seventeen year old quit picking at his tie when the judge's cold eyes locked with his.

"Lovino Vargas… you have been charged with criminal battery and are hereby sentenced to thirty days Juvenile Correction. After your release you are to be appointed a Parole officer for nine months, and are to serve one hundred hours of community service to make up for your misconduct. You will also be forced to take a series of anger management classes until diagnosed stable enough to discontinue. Case dismissed."

The impact that was made when the gavel was pounded ricochet throughout the silent courtroom, followed by Feliciano's muffled cry and Vladimir's quiet chuckle.

Lovino did nothing but nod, and walk out of the courtroom, his head hung low in silent shame, anger, and regret.

* * *

Translation(according to google translate):

_instrument d'écriture- _writing utensil

**As always let me know of any spelling/ grammatical errors **

**Also, I will not be going into detail about Lovino's time in Juvie, only one phone call next chapter and _maybe_ little flashback's here and there if provoked. This story will be centered under Antonio being his Parole Officer... and yeah :D**


	2. Chapter 1

**I finished my first week of senior year (it is now sunday) and I am exaughsted. I still haven't done my AP homework because i spent my saturday writing this and mentally preparing myself for Doctor Who (If you watched it, you're awesome!) **

**I know i said last chapter that there was going to be like a phonecall in juvie? yeah, I lied. i wrote the phonecall out but i feel like it could be more of a flashback than a main element, you know? I'm really excited about this chapter and I know they may seem a bit OOC but i'mworking on it I promise! My next story update will be Maps, and I hope to keep the cycle of every sunday I update a story.**

**Anyways! Enjoy, my cupcakes! I;m going to go wrote my AP essay! Yay!(Not really)**

**Btw. P.O is Parole Officer  
And Chiquito is the spanish way of saying tiny, but I use it to refer to as little one (i'm spanish and that's what i call people shorter/ younger than me)**

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***One Month Later***

Tan fingers drummed quietly on a manila folder as green eyes darted around in search of two very specific people. A low huff off air escaped his thin lips and he ran his hand through his thin brown hairs. His left leg soon joined his nervous and slightly anxious movements, thumping up and down in a highly distracting manner, distracting enough to catch the attention of an elderly couple a few tables away.

The bell to the quaint, neighborhood café chimed happily and a loud, obnoxious laugh filled the seemingly quiet place. Francis shot the customers, along with the staff, apologetic looks as he clasped a hand on his friend's mouth and dragged him over to the table at which Antonio sat.

His lips spread into a wild, welcoming smile when he spotted his friends. "Hola, amigos! Come on, have a seat."

Gilbert took the chair, his abrupt movements causing the legs of the wooden chair to creak against the floor as he turned the back to face Antonio and straddled it. "Hallo!"

Francis rolled his eyes at Gilbert's actions and took a seat beside him, "Bonjour, Antonio." Antonio had ordered three cups of coffee a few minutes before the two had arrived, and just as they sat down they were met with a kind smile and coffee. "So," Francis began, coffee in hand and eyes subtly fixed on the server who brought them the drink. "What is so important that I have to be here right now? I have a faculty meeting in less than thirty minutes."

Antonio's eyes brightened at his friends question as if to say _I thought you'd never ask_, and he took the folder in his hands.

"Whoa, is that your first case? Awesome!" Gilbert reached his hand across the table, but Antonio slapped it away.

"Si! I wanted to open it with you two, mis mejores amigos!" His smile was as bright and loveable as ever. "The court said that since this is my first case, they are allowing me to stick with it for a month, as training, and then they'll assign me more!"

Francis turned toward his friends, ripping his flirtatious gaze from the purple eyes across the room, and smiled. "That's fantastique, mon ami!"

"Yeah! Hurry up and tell us who it is!"

Antonio stuck his tongue out and pulled a paper out, his eyes scanning the page with enough enthusiasm to make anyone smile. "Lovino Vargas... Why does that name sound so familiar?"

Francis coughed and clasped a hand over his lips in attempt to keep the coffee in his mouth. Gilbert laughed from beside him, tossing a napkin his way before clasping a strong hand on his back. Antonio just blinked, eyes shifting between the two of them.

Gilbert was the first to talk, his lips adorned with a smug smirk. "Lovino is that kid I arrested not too long ago, remember?" Antonio nodded. "Frenchie here, hates his guts!"

"I don't hate him!" Francis barked as he wiped the liquid from his lips. "I dislike his attitude and the way he talks to me in class. Don't go around saying that I hate my students!" His glare tore away from the albino and onto his watch as he sighed. "I have to go, mes amis. Meeting starts in fifteen minutes."

Francis stood up, coffee cup in hand, and waved goodbye to his friends. Gilbert flashed a smile and turned to face Antonio. "Today is his last day of juvie, the first thing I have to do is pick him up from the correction center and drop him off, wanna come?"

Antonio's lips quirked up in disdain, but he agreed. What harm could come from picking up a teenager from a juvenile correction center?

. . .

It was almost impossible for Antonio to ignore the side glances that Lovino shot at him as they sat on the doorstep of the Vargas' mansion. The teen sat with his knees to his chest and his head rested onto them. Antonio sat leaning back with his palms on the floor at either side of him. Needless to say, every dirty glance was caught and shot a nervous shudder through his body.

They were currently waiting outside the home, after realizing that Lovino's grandfather was working and his younger brother was at school. Ever since Antonio explained what he was to Lovino, the Italian gave him the cold shoulder, enough to make Gilbert praise him for being so brave.

Which led them to the uncomfortably quiet and awkward position they were in now. They hadn't been there for long, and they wouldn't be more much longer, since Lovino's grandfather had been called.

"So, Lovi-"

"Shut up, bastard. Don't call me that."

Antonio blinked at the young boy's vulgarity. "Oh, Kay~. I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

Hazel eyes met green in a vicious stare. "Pretend all you want, because that's all you're going to fucking hear."

"Aw, why are you so rude and unhappy, niño? There's no need to be. I'm only trying to be friendly. You're going to be seeing a whole lot of me this month."

Lovino turned his head toward the man and glared. "I am _not_ a little boy okay? Get that through your thick moronic skull. At least have some manners if you're going to babysit me."

Antonio opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by the car that pulled up into the driveway. Lovino stood up, dusted himself off, and walked toward the car with Antonio right on his tail.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Vargas. I believe we've met before." Antonio was polite and very professional as he took the man's hand in his and gave it a firm shake.

"Yes. Yes we have. Come on in. Sorry for keeping you waiting, I wanted to pick up Feliciano from school before I came here. He's been begging to see Lovino this entire month."

Julius motioned for the Spaniard to follow him into the house. It was no surprise that the inside was even more breathtaking than the outside. Although the outside was kept in perfect condition; grass cut, hedges trimmed, flowers watered, and over all clean. The inside looked like something straight out of a fairy tale; Marble flooring, neutrally painted walls, chandeliers, expensive couches and various paintings pinned up on the walls. It made Antonio's apartment look like a dumpster, literally.

After getting situated on the couch, Antonio explained to Julius how he was supposed to watch over his grandson for the next month. "He will be under my supervision whenever he is not under yours or the schools. I will also be taking him to anger management classes once a week, starting tomorrow, and I will find a suitable place for him to do his community service hours. After this month, I will only visit to take him to the classes and the community service."

Julius simply nodded, a non-verbal agreement that let the Spaniard know that Lovino was all his. "By the way... Is he always so..."

"Vulgar?" Antonio nodded and Julius chuckled. "Yes. He is. It takes some getting used to, but you can warm up to him. He likes ice cream, and so does Feliciano... Just a suggestion."

The older Italian man jiggled his keys in his hand before laying them down on the coffee table and sending a wink Antonio's way. Just as Antonio was going to ask Julius nodded, answering his unasked question.

"Upstairs, first door to your right."

. . .

The cool and calming fall breeze swayed the leaves on the trees outside only slightly. They brought a sense of security to the Spaniard and he let a warm grin make a home on his lips.

Feliciano was chatting on about his school life since Lovino had left and Antonio was only slightly paying attention. The older Italian nodded and occasionally shot glares at Antonio. He was grateful for the ice cream, but he only saw it as a sense of bribery, so he didn't order any; Feliciano was a different story.

"I don't _need_ a parole officer; I can do just fine on my own." Lovino hissed at Antonio as Feliciano continued to blab on.

"According to the state, you do. Don't worry, I'm a cool P.O, I took you out for ice cream, didn't I?"

Lovino glared at him. "Just because you're doing this, doesn't mean I like you, idiota. I'm only here to make him happy."

Feliciano stuffed another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth and wrapped his arms around his older brother for a hug. "Ve~ But I am happy! Happier than I could ever be! I'm reunited with my Fratello, I made a new friend," he gestured toward Antonio before continuing. "I have the best boyfriend in the world, plus I'm eating a nice bowl of Gelato! Everything is the way it should be!"

Lovnio's eyes widened. "Boyfriend? Why didn't you tell me that you had a boyfriend?"

Realizing his mistake, Feliciano shot Antonio a troubled look. "I-uh… we started going out a week after you left, ve~. You're kind of the reason why we're together now."

"That's wonderful news, Feliciano. I hope you and your boyfriend last a very long time! El more s una cosa mágica." Antonio flashed him a supportive smile and Lovino gaped at him.

"Who is he?"

"Ludwig…" The name come out barely above a whisper, but Lovino heard it clear as day.

His breath hitched.

Antonio cocked his head to the side. "Wait. Ludwig Beilschmidt?"

"Si! Do you know him?" Feliciano asked, hoping to ignore his brother's sudden glare.

"Claro! He's my best friend's little brother! I haven't seen that guy in a while, how is he? I'm glad he found someone like you, maybe you can loosen the little guy up bit."

The rest of their conversation was centered around the Beilschmidt's while Lovino stared at them with pure annoyance. It wasn't because his brother was dating a boy; that would be hypocritical because of Lovino's past relationships, it was the _boy_ that his brother was dating. He always had some strange eerie feeling about the German.

By the time they finished their conversation, it was already sundown and Lovino had long since fallen asleep on the chair. Feliciano poked at him, but nothing. He gave him a tough nudge, zip. He even tried screaming, as loud as he could publicly, and nada. He knew that his older brother was a heavy sleeper, but that is just ridiculous.

Antonio suggested that the smaller Italian carry him to the car and Feliciano laughed, explaining that he couldn't even open a jar without the assistance of his older brother. Antonio sighed as he kneeled down beside the chair, grabbing onto the arms for support.

"Hey, wake up sleepyhead, it's time to go home." Lovino let out a loan groan of annoyance and frowned. "C'mon, I'll have to carry you if you don't wake up, chiquito."

Hazel eyes shot open and he sat up in his chair. "Don't touch me, bastardo!" Antonio chuckled and stood up.

"I wasn't going to, I'm just a teeny bit too old for you." He sent the Italian a playful and joking wink and Lovino glared at him. "Now, c'mon let's get you guys home. _You_," he said as he pointed at Lovino with his eyes on his watch. "Broke curfew tonight, but lucky for you, you were with me so it doesn't count." Lovino huffed and rolled his eyes.

. . .

"And then, poor little Ludwig ended up covered in glitter and chicken stickers because Gilbert wanted to 'make a statement.' _Dios mio_! You should've seen the look on Aldrich's face! Priceless!" Feliciano and Julius burst into laughter at Antonio's story, while Lovino sat at the table with a scowl on his face.

They had gotten back to the house at around eight in the afternoon, and Julius had invited Antonio to stay for dinner. Antonio agreed to stay a bit, but only until Gilbert got off from work and picked him up. That had been an hour ago, not that Lovino was counting.

Somehow, the topic of conversation drifted toward the Beilschmidt's again and Julius said he remembered having a friend in high school named Aldrich. That roughly translated to, "I'll have to call him and invite him over sometime," much to Lovino's distaste.

Soon, embarrassing stories about the Beilschmidt's faded into embarrassing stories about Feliciano Lovino, and the eldest brother groaned, excusing himself. Laughter was heard coming from the dining room and Lovino huffed as he scrubbed the plate in his hands with substantial force. After washing his plate, Antonio walked in with a huge smirk on his face.

"You are something else, Lovi." He ruffled Lovino's hairs and the teenager sent a punch his way, one which Antonio quickly caught. "Aw, c'mon. I'm just trying to have fun. I might be your P.O, but I also want to be your friend."

His eyebrows furrowed. "One, I don't have friends. Two, if I had to give our relationship a title, you'd be my 'legally appointed babysitter.' And three, _don't_ fucking call me Lovi again!" His voice come out as a hushed whisper and when he noticed that his fist was still covered by Antonio's hand, he growled. "And let go of my fist, you jerk!"

Antonio pouted. "Aw, and just when I thought we were getting along. Don't worry, you have a whole month of me before I have to juggle six cases at the same time. We'll get along."

Lovino huffed and ripped his fist away from Antonio's firm grasp. "I highly doubt it."

As the teenager began to walk away, Antonio shouted, "I'll be by tomorrow at noon to pick you up." Lovino rolled his eyes and stormed upstairs, leaving his family, and newly appointed babysitter, behind.


End file.
